Damn, You're Cute (Michael Clifford)

Chapter 39

"I'm glad you think so," Michael grinned, running a hand through his newly dyed hair.

I truly did love it. It was different and unbelievably gorgeous. I liked how much it made all of his features stand out, especially his eyes which have always been my favorite.

"And I've been thinking," he continued, grabbing his phone and sliding it into his back pocket. "I want to get another tattoo like we talked about."

My lips stretched into a smile.

"Can I come with you when you get it?" I asked because honestly, I was interested in the process. I've always wanted a tattoo but never had the guts to do it.

"I was thinking, like, now," he said and glanced at his clock on the bedside table. "It's only six."

"Why not?" I shrugged but quickly realized that we had school tomorrow and we both left all of our books at my house. I decided not to say anything, figuring that if we skipped a day it wouldn't be the end of the world.

-

Michael opened the door to the tattoo shop for me, to which I slinked in, ducking under his arm. The bell above the door rang and a man appeared out of the back. He was huge, towering over even Michael who I thought was extremely tall already. His arms were ripped, his muscles evident with multiple tattoos covering his skin. He hunched over the counter with his greasy black hair tied back into a low pony tail at his neck.

"What can I do for you?" the man asked in a gravely voice, peering at us from behind his table. I didn't answer, staying as close to Michael as possible. I knew it was wrong to assume the man was mean, but his appearance frightened me.

I think Michael might have noticed because he placed his arm around my waist, squeezing my side reassuringly.

"I wanted to see some designs for a tattoo about here," Michael said, leading me toward the man so he could point to the area just above and below his elbow.

The tattoo guy pulled out a book and slid it across the counter. Michael thanked him and used one hand to flip through the book with the other one still around my waist.

After he got a few pages in, he stopped and brushed his fingers over a specific design. He pointed at the number title below it.

"This one," he said and the man nodded briskly, handing him some paperwork.

"I'm going to need some identification." he grumbled and Michael seemed annoyed because he's been here before. He took out his ID, showing it to the man before signing several sheets of paper, giving the artist permission to inject him with ink. He paid upfront, and finally all the boring stuff was over with. Then the man motioned for us to follow him back into the store.

"Are you okay?" Michael looked down at me, tapping my side to gain my attention. I bit my lip as the man pointed to a chair for Michael to sit in. It looked vaguely like a dentist chair.

"As long as you know what you're doing, I'm great," I told him, trying to relax my shoulders. I was just afraid of him not liking something so permanent after if was done but I knew he was fine. After all, he's done it before.

Michael smiled at me, releasing my waist as he moved to sit in the chair.

"I'm Edgar," the man introduced himself, gesturing for Michael to put out his arm.

"Michael," he informed Edgar and then looked to me. "And that's Leah,"

Great, the introductions are done. Now let's painfully inject my boyfriend with ink.

Immediately I froze, realizing that I just called Michael my boyfriend. My cheeks went red and I could feel my stomach churning. He's not my boyfriend, I reminded myself sternly. He hasn't officially asked, anyway.